


Candle Wax and Polaroids

by idk5678



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idk5678/pseuds/idk5678
Summary: Based on Taylor Swift’s song ‘New Year’s Day’Dani has had a crush on Jamie for as long as she can remember. She thinks she will finally get a chance to tell Jamie how she feels through a New Year’s kiss, promised to her as a solution to stop Eddie from kissing her first.But all of this is derailed when Dani sees Jamie kissing someone else right before midnight.Buckle in for some angst, fluff, and a whole lot of clueless but well meaning Jamie and head over heels in love Dani.
Relationships: Dani Clayton & Jamie, Dani Clayton/Jamie, Hannah Grose/Owen Sharma
Comments: 23
Kudos: 52





	1. You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi

**Author's Note:**

> I love this ship, but I see a lot of fics where Jamie is chasing Dani. I really wanted to flip that on it’s head, and show a pining Dani and a clueless Jamie.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and if you like the start to this story! Your comments and feedback help me keep writing!

It was a promise. A stupid promise. 

A stupid promise that Jamie didn’t necessarily break. There were too many contingencies, too many asterisks, too much of Dani’s wishful thinking and Jamie’s benign indifference in the footnotes. It was a stupid promise, but it was their stupid promise.

It was made in the back of a taxi, bags of party poppers, and plastic champagne flutes, and ridiculous new year’s hats between them. A landfill nightmare that would probably break down as quickly, or rather as slowly, as Dani’s unrelenting crush. Her leg’s buoyancy knew no bounds, making a muted thumping sound against the hard plastic of the passenger door, as she felt a small, but steady hand on her knee. Twitching warmth and assuaging swipes of the thumb wasted on knee cap dimples and childhood playground scars. 

“Poppins, you alright?” Dani’s eyes flicked over to an amused smirk totally juxtaposed by the shadows of concern in Jamie’s gray green glance. “You know this cab runs on gasoline, not your kinetic energy.” 

Dani wanted to laugh, wanted to grin, wanted to continue Jamie’s gaze like an infinite plane until it meant something, meant anything, everything. More than words, more than finger tips, more than a stupid kiss at midnight. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Not to someone like Jamie, whose unassuming beauty and endless supply of charm had every girl who even took a second glance at their sexuality writing their phone numbers on her coffee cups, on the backs of her receipts, in a pinch on her palm with a tube of old  
lipstick and brazen impulse. Jamie wasn’t looking for love. She never had, not in digits or strangers’ lips. Not in the scent of someone else’s laundry detergent or the feeling of a thread count much higher than her own. Certainly not in the warm light of early morning, when someone might ask for a piece of her future over pieces of overcooked bacon, behind the rim of a chipped coffee mug.

Jamie didn’t want those things. But Dani did. Dani wanted them with Jamie.

So here they sat, with more tinsel and glitter and noise makers between them than two women who were hoping for a quiet evening in should. But Rebecca was insistent, Rebecca was a dog with a bone, and Dani a soul without a spine, and Jamie, well Jamie was just Jamie. Didn’t much care what the plan was as long as everyone was having a good time.

“Eddie said he’s coming to the party... I uh... I know he’s going to want to... to try to... uh... kiss me at midnight.” The way Jamie’s fingers slipped away, the way the softness in simpering sea green turned to stone, froze to ice, left Dani wanting to pound past it until her knuckles were bloodied, until she was drowning in everything Jamie wasn’t saying.

“Do you want that, Dani?” No fond nickname Dani pretended to hate. No warmth to the query; arrow sharp from Jamie’s tongue, piercing through Dani’s chest. No warmth, but branding her just the same. It was supposed to mean nothing, weigh nothing, hurt nothing, but why did those words feel like everything? 

“I don’t think there is anything I want to have happen less...” and just like that, the structural integrity of Jamie’s icy gaze began to melt, had Dani slipping through until she was gasping for air, inhaling only salt water and the essence of brown curls, and soft smiles, and cheeky glances. Oxygen deprivation left her muddled and disoriented. Had her leaning against chilled window fog instead of warm shoulder bone.

“Well then, is that problem looking for a solution?” The near poetic rise and fall of northern English drawl had Dani breathless again. Wanting only Jamie’s answers, let honesty cauterize the hemorrhaging questions. “Because my only remedy will have sir Edmund pouting into the new year.”

“And what would that be? Because it sounds more enjoyable for you than anyone else.”

“Kiss me.” Jamie said it so pragmatically, so prosaically, like they were just words, and kisses were just physical embodiments of an unbridled savior complex. They were just letters and characters and movements and touches. They didn’t have to say more, mean more, weigh more. “If we both have no one to kiss by the end of the evening, kiss me.”

And just like that, she felt warm skin reinforced by twitching bone and nerve. Her own hand intertwined with Jamies. Her palm gently bumped three times by calloused skin she wanted to know better than her own. Three soft squeezes that could mean more, mean anything, mean everything. ‘I want you.’ ‘I need you.’ ‘I love you.’

Or they could mean nothing more than platonic comfort and absence of the right words to say ‘I’ll be here.’ 

:  
:

“Dani, you look... Wow...” Dani knew that the lack of words, the way Rebecca’s lips curled around a subdued beam rather than abstracted vowels, was a good thing. But silence was not going to distract her from the ever present apprehension vibrating her bones, dimpling her skin, creating physical evidence of Dani’s wanting. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“I just... I hope it’s enough.” The quiet filling in the rest. ‘I hope I’m enough’. “I feel like this is finally my chance. Our chance.” 

All of Dani’s wanting felt too big, too immense to fit in this room. Fit in this tiny conversation, in front of a mirror that was roaring with every reason she should feel insecure, should feel inadequate. The sequins scratching the soft, vulnerable skin of her under arms now felt too loud, too demanding of the eye. Her painted on face, which moments ago made her feel like she could step onto a runway, now felt like she was one balloon animal shy of dawning a red nose and oversized shoes. The exposed skin taut around her collar bones felt too pale now, almost translucent, as her eyes traced the roadmap of pastel blue blood vessels, clearly doing a subpar job at regulating the speeding up and slowing down of her over enthusiastic heart.

“Dani, love, take a breath.” She felt warm hands on her shoulders; beautiful slender fingers tracing up and down her arms until her tensed nerves relaxed against their better judgement. “Jamie would have to be blind not to see how beautiful you look. I don’t even fancy women, and I want to kiss you at midnight.”

Dani let out a tense chuckle, eyes meeting Rebecca’s in the mirror. Her affirming words and gentle gaze would have to be enough. She was out of any other reason why they shouldn’t be.

“Well then, here goes nothing...”

:  
:

11:55 Edmund’s hopeful gaze turned to yearning movement.

11:56 Dani’s panicked thoughts turned to frantic searching.

11:57 Rebecca’s reassuring glances turned to reaffirming thumbs up.

11:58 Jamie’s lips found temporary lodging in a tiny brunette’s, lost in champagne confidence.

11:59 Dani stepped into the other room to see it all unfold. To feel her heart stutter, and then stop all together.

12:00 Jamie was staring wide eyed and bewildered. Head shaking, arms releasing, legs moving to chase, to follow, to catch.

12:01 Dani was out the door, shivering in late winter’s gale force winds. Coatless, and hopeless, and totally, utterly speechless.

Dani couldn’t make Jamie want her. Dani couldn’t make herself want Jamie any less. It was a problem looking for a solution. Looking for Jamie’s solution. Too bad Jamie’s solution found someone else first. It would always find someone else first.

Always be an answer to someone else’s question. Always be an echo to someone else’s calling. Always be someone else’s something. 

And unfortunately for Dani, Jamie was her eternal everything. Dani couldn’t make Jamie want her. It wasn’t a solution, but it was certainly an answer.


	2. Don’t read the last page, but I stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie realizes she fucked up, and only wants to make this right.
> 
> Get ready for some poetically dramatic Jamie filled with only angst.

She knew it was a mistake the moment it happened. The moment her lips met someone else’s. The moment she heard the tell tale sign of creaking steps and measured movement. The moment her eyes shot open and then locked with cerulean, dizzied by all the staggered maneuvering. Dizzied by the touch of someone else’s hand on the back of her neck. Dizzied by someone else’s alcohol infused breath tickling her lips to the point of irritation.

She knew it was a mistake the moment she saw deep blue magnified by despondent tears. 

Dani looked ethereal in the soft shadows; opalescent refractions of luminance scattering dim starlight all over the floor. Like she’s the galaxy, the whole universe, and Jamie doesn’t know how to breathe in her atmosphere. The way her lips tuck, and pleat, and hide behind ivory enamel is what led Jamie to taking incautious pulls straight from the bottle this evening. Let her brain get fuzzy enough to make mistakes, make this huge fucking mistake.

And now her whole universe is moving backwards. Is stammering an apology meant for perceived intrusion, but really it feels more like an apology for her existence all together. As if she only sees herself as a fleeting comet now dying in the darkness, rather than the source of life itself. The source of light, and warmth, and beauty. She is everything, and she’s staring at Jamie as if she’s made her feel like nothing at all.

Star light dimming in reparation. Sequins swallowed by kinetic blackness.

In the time it took Jamie to detangle and find her footing, Dani was gone. And Jamie was left wishing on shooting stars already swallowed by nothingness. It took her a minute to find movement again; to loosen joints and shift vibrating limbs. To remind herself that she wasn’t pinned to her own regret. That she could try and make this better. Had to make this better.

She knew no good was ever found in chasing shadows, in reaching for a silhouette and expecting the warmth of skin. Couldn’t make sunlight out of cloud coverage; she had tried. But this was Dani, and if it meant retracing the steps of a ghost, if it meant reaching for a minute’s old memory, she would do it. She had to do it.

She made Dani a promise. And while it was a little worse for the wear, it hadn’t been broken yet. She just couldn’t speak for the heart it had attached itself to.

So she pushed forwards, past slumping shoulders and seconds old resolutions. Past party popper confetti and half empty champagne flutes. Past giggles, and whispers, and other people’s less complicated realities. She kept moving until she reached someone familiar, someone who brightened and warmed at the sight of her, though she didn’t deserve it at all. 

“Becs, did you see where Dani went?” The manic edge of desperation in her voice could not be subdued by the soft drawl of inebriation. She was sure nothing could dull the serrated teeth of panic now latching onto her heart, making it near impossible to breathe. 

“Jay, what happened? Did the kiss not go well?” Rebecca’s features seemed less defined now, softened by concern and questions that Jamie didn’t have time for. She needed answers. Needed direction. Needed to know that Dani was okay.

“The kiss? Becs, who gives a fuck about the kiss? I need to find Dani.” The useless query only agitated Jamie further. Had her skin hot and her eyes burning and her teeth wanting to chatter from fevered desperation. 

“I mean... Dani might care... she’s been wanting to do that for ages.” And now, in her pursuit for answers, she was only able to conceive and carry questions. All echos looking for an origin. Echoes and shadows, origin and body; Jamie was already losing herself to figments of what she wanted. Ideas, and hopes, and daydreams. Hyperbolic hypotheticals that always led back to a universe she couldn’t even breathe in.

“What’re you talking about?” Through all the confusion, she could see the light of realization illuminate Rebecca’s honey suckle eyes. Her image sharp again, in-spite of Jamie’s ever narrowing focus.

“Oh god, Jay, you didn’t kiss Dani tonight, did you?” Her stunned silence and barely perceivable head shake had Rebecca reaching for her phone with total muscle memory. How many times had she been the calming voice on the other end of the line for Dani? How many times had it been because of Jamie? “Fuck... she’s not answering...”

And in this moment, Jamie wanted to be swallowed by the whispers in the room, forgotten like 2 month old resolutions. Fading into a memory seemed easier than punching black holes into future realities where her name might become synonymous with heart break. She rather yellow and dissolve in consequential, vindictive sunlight than know the damaging force of her future mistakes. 

“I didn’t know... I... don’t know how I didn’t know...” the words clipped, and then slipped and then tumbled to the floor, adding to later today’s clean up efforts. Amongst chipped bottles, and crumpled cans, and forgotten Polaroids, lay Jamie’s stupid attempt at useless reasoning. 

“Listen, she’s probably fine... You know she likes space when she’s upset....” Rebecca’s voice turned to slipping finger tips clinging to a level tone. But before Jamie could process any of it, she felt a persistent buzz in her pocket. A reminder that there was a world outside of her own desolate aching. A world that held the reality of Dani, and not just the crystal clear memory.

“Owen, hey, I really can’t talk... I have to-“

“She’s here, Jamie. We got her.” She should be relieved, she knows she should be relieved. But the sleepy cadence of Owen’s voice compounding on the cumbersome weight of concern made her blood run cold. Dani was safe, but she wasn’t okay. And in all the ways her body felt like thunder, all pummeling beats and roaring panic, her words were too quiet. Her thoughts screaming but muted by a drought dry lexicon for how to say what she needed to say.

“Fuck, I can be there in 10 minutes. Actually 5... make it 5.” She was already searching deep in her pockets for keys and stronger versions of herself. Versions that could chase a shadow only to suffocate in a galaxy. 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Jay.... We just got her calmed down.” All Owen had wanted was a quiet night in with Hannah. Just another line item to add to Jamie’s growing list of tomorrow’s apologies. But she didn’t have time for that now, didn’t have time for lightweight guilt. She was already shadowboxing her own demons in hopes of puncturing through. In hopes of getting one last look at pin prick star light. She needed to see Dani, to explain. To make this better; she had to make this better. 

“Owen, I fucked up... I have to make this right.” There wasn’t enough air in the world to make the delivery of her words sound any less hollow. All just echos of what she really needed to say. “I love her, and I can’t have her thinking there is a universe in which I don’t.”

“And while I’m glad you’re finally able to admit that to yourself, and believe me, I am very proud of you for it, she’s not ready to see you yet, Jay.” His words were whisper soft, but inarguably significant. “She walked a mile here, without a coat. She’s cold, and she’s sad, and she just needs some space.” 

And as much as Jamie wanted to argue, her whole being made of unforgiving obstinance, she also knew that Owen was right. If Dani was willing to risk early January hypothermia to get away from her, to get away from the mess that she made, it was clear she needed time, needed room to breathe. Jamie’s truth didn’t matter right now, when she could see Dani’s parka from the corner of her eye. A cruel winter’s reminder that she fucked up.

“I know you’re right... I just... Can you just tell her that I’ll be here, at the apartment, whenever she’s ready?” While all Dani had was movement and space and additional time, Jamie found herself undertaking the opposite reality. She would do what she did best, remain headstrong and steadfast; would forever wait in a New Year’s eve promise in hopes of a different New Year’s day reality. 

“Of course, Jay. But I’m certain she already knows.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words on the last chapter!
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this one, and if you think these two deserve their happy ending.


	3. If you strike out and you’re crawling home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani comes to terms with last night’s consequences.

Dani’s discomfort started with sofa spring stiffness and ended with the leaden ache of her heart. In the early morning fog of underdeveloped thought, she could almost forget why it was there. Why it was so dogged and resolute. With a clearer mind, she would think that this shouldn’t be possible. That pain shouldn’t exist without comprehensible motive, without full understanding of why it remained when everything else seemed hazy.

And when it all flooded back to her, when it sharpened the ache dreamless sleep subdued, she could only think of one name. One name falling from her lips like a Hail Mary prayer. Slipping from her tongue like an entire language; one that she was fluent in if it were up to the books. But she couldn’t be sure the same could be said in application. It wasn’t her native tongue. She hadn’t spent a semester in the city of Jamie’s sigh, in the county of her early morning stretch that pulled stiff muscle taut, pulled white tank top wrinkles above exposed hip bone. She had seen photos, caught glimpses in worn out VHS’ with paling color, but never got the chance to really taste the name as if it belonged to her. Never got the chance to breath it out in a relieved simper. She was fluent but not native. Couldn’t call the land it belonged to, home. Her passport expired before she even got the chance to visit.

So here she lay, pain punctuated by stiff couch cushion and her inability to face a reality that, no matter how hard she hoped, didn’t include a midnight confession from her years’ long love. She tried to push away her most recent memories like tears; the ones that included kiss bruised lips like passport stamps and a stammering, gaping, unmoving Jamie. She tried to chase them off, burn them down, scream at them until they flinched at the decibel. But nothing worked, nothing would ever work. Not when the love of her life was wrapped around someone else like a comma, meant to be Dani’s period. She felt unfinished, and she wondered if she always would.

Right as the stiffness in her back went from irritating to unbearable, she heard the soft creak of an early morning guest. Her eyes traveled over to Owen, tip toeing closer to see if she was ready to face a new day’s reality, a new year’s consequence. 

“I spoke with her last night. She wanted to come, to take you home.” No good morning. No useless follow up questions from a late night’s depressing wallow. Straight to the point. It was so against Owen’s usual disposition, and it only made Dani love him that much more for knowing what she needed to hear. “Dani... She is back at the apartment when you’re ready. She wants to talk.”

Talk. She wanted to talk. Dani’s sure amongst the scattered words Jamie could piece together and rearrange, a flustered apology was at the top of her list. An apology simmered in incomplete promises and incomplete understanding of why Dani took off. It was all just pieces, all of it just rattled and broken and missing parts. Even the truth. Especially the truth. 

Sure, Jamie had seen the welling of thunder clap tears. Had watched her slip passed shadows, then bodies, then safety to separate herself from an image she’s sure will leave her heart jump scare palpitating every time her senses mistake someone else’s existence for Jamie. Because it would have to be someone else. When Jamie’s wanting would always lead to anyone else, it left Dani with one option, one answer, one half baked solution. 

Her heart would have to find someone else.

And as she watched Owen settle on the tiny corner of the couch not claimed by Dani’s tucked in feet, she knew that talking at this point was near impossible. So she sat up, pulled her knees to her chest, tucked her toes in the crack between couch cushions, and leaned forward to bury her face in Owen’s terry cloth robed shoulder. She wasn’t ready for words, wasn’t ready to let go of misunderstood promises. Wouldn’t ever be ready to choose someone else, love someone else. But unfortunately that didn’t matter when she was native tongue tied, holding an expired passport that never even got a stamp.  
:  
:

Owen was right. The minute the key turned, and the door creaked, and the New Year’s Eve mess was visible, Jamie’s eyes met hers. 

The minute her palpable ache turned to excruciating sting, and her hand gripped harder on to cool door knob metal, Jamie was off the couch and on her feet. Jamie was on her feet, combing fingers through unruly curls suppressed only by yesterday’s worn out product, swiping bent knuckles across sleep bleary eyes. Then moving. Moving closer, like she hadn’t last night. All edged and anxious. All dizzyingly quick. And then there were words, and Dani wasn’t ready for words.

“Dani, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am...”

“Jamie...” and it was the first time since the first time that saying Jamie’s name felt foreign. Felt like it didn’t belong on her tongue, couldn’t be translated to mean ‘Home.’ She didn’t want Jamie’s answers, not when they weren’t solutions. She doubted words, even Jamie’s, were capable of making her heart break any less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, and I know I left it on a cliff hanger, but I promise some fluff soon! Next chapter will be from Jamie’s POV.
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter. Your feedback fuels my writing and keeps the chapters coming!


	4. When you’re lost, and I’m scared, and you’re turning away.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani tries to avoid the impending conversation and Jamie forgets how to form sentence.
> 
> Idiots in love who don’t know how to say it.

Pink.

It was the first word that came to Jamie’s sleep muzzled mind as her eyes searched Dani’s face for all the ache she didn’t have time to tuck away. Wind gust pink cheeks. Pouty pink chapped skin. Swollen pink under devastating blue. Pink and soft and simply sad. 

Jamie didn’t expect it. She figured her brand of devastation was eternally sharp edges and monochrome contrast. It wasn’t hues in a pastel sunset or a kid’s first choice of ice cream flavor based on color alone. She figured it would suck all the beauty away, steal her favorite parts of Dani from her, because honestly, that’s what she deserved.

But no. There Dani stood, flushed and breathtaking. Jamie’s destruction so used to tamping down, so used to shutting off and pushing away, stealing inhales and releasing them as her own selfish exhale. So used to draining life, that she wasn’t prepared for her mistakes to be the proof of it. The product of it. The cause of it. 

Dani’s ache was all water colors and stain glass reflections. It deserved a church choir hymn soundtrack. Her pain soft, radiating heat. And Jamie’s punishment, Jamie’s personalized poison, was that it made her want Dani that much more. She wanted to rub thumb pads across velvet gentle pink. Wanted to kiss bubble gum lips until they were bruise bloomed rose red. She wanted to hold all the beauty that refused to retreat when faced with Jamie’s ugliest mistakes. 

Pink. She wasn’t prepared for pink.

And when Dani finally said her name in response to her flimsy apology, it all felt different. Sounded overflowing with empty. Sounded foreign, misplaced. Jamie was unable to catch any part of Dani. Her eyes on the floor, her voice lilting light years away, her fingers twitching into ill constructed fists. As if trying to hold nothing and everything all at the same time.

“I’m- ummm- I’m gonna go shower, change... then we can clean up this mess.” And she knew Dani’s woefully willful words were intended for surface level meaning. Were about as deep as the last sip of beer unable to escape the confines of these crumpled cans. And Jamie felt selfish asking for more than the hollowed hopelessness edging Dani’s tone. But she had to. Because her eyes were on Dani, and her voice was caught in her throat, but here in this room, and her hands were open, loose, ready to catch everything she let slip through them just hours ago. 

“Dani, we should talk about this.” It was quiet but suffocatingly earnest. Attempting to fill the emptiness of someone else’s words, someone else’s voice, felt like mimicking an echo. Dani’s chest caving in, but trying to fill it with sound while it still had room to move, still had space to ricochet off rib cage ramparts. Jamie could overflow till she’s empty. Jamie could crossword stitch the rest of this moment, the rest of time if it meant that Dani would just look at her. Would just hear the honesty in elapsed syllables.

“Jay... it’s okay... I shouldn’t have- I don’t know what I was expecting...” The sentence trailed off into whispered surrender. A game of telephone gone so wrong, that filling in the blanks couldn’t save it now. “It was stupid... I was being stupid.”

“Dani, no...” Jamie found herself tripping over her own tongue, scraping the palms of every half baked thing that didn’t feel good enough to say. Good enough for Dani to hear. “I didn’t... I didn’t know... I had no idea that you... that you were serious.”

And she knew it was the wrong thing to say the minute it left her mouth. Too awkward, and incautious, and brazen. Too many ways it could be misunderstood, misconstrued. It wasn’t a romantic declaration of love. It wasn’t even an attempt at admissive honesty. Though it was a complete idea, punctuated by a pensive period, it came out more like a cowardly question. 

Dani’s body remained stock-still. But her eyes, the eyes that Jamie dream drowsy drowned in every night, were now meeting her own. Brows knit together in aching frustration. Fingers reflexively releasing the last shred of hope she still had. Jamie was catching every part of Dani. She was catching every part of Dani just to lose it. Just to lose her:

“Could we just not do this... pretend no promises were made... pretend I wasn’t stupid enough to enter a room without knocking...” Dani’s voice broke into splintered anguish, tears held back by iron will and heavy lashes. “Just pretend that you never saw what you obviously saw.”

And it was clear to Jamie in that moment, tense with words unsaid, heavy with heartbeats unheard, that she was losing her. She was losing Dani before she ever had her. Before she ever knew she had her.. 

“No, I’m not doing that with you... I don’t want to do this to you... to run from you...” Jamie trembled through all of these half truths. All of these partially formed thoughts that not even a night apart could complete. Jamie trembled, and Dani tucked her arms around herself. Squeezing her own rib cage as if it could push back together all the pieces Jamie broke. As if it could push out stale air to make room for suffocating declarations. As if Jamie’s words could be breathed in like oxygen. But really, they just left Dani winded and dizzy.

“I can’t have this conversation with you right now, Jay. I can’t keep loving you while you kiss someone else, anyone else...” and the tears were fierce, and the cheeks were flushed, and the eyes ocean deep that Jamie was scared she might drown. Pink. Blue. Soft. Beautiful. Heart broken. Devastated.

Adjectives. All Jamie had was adjectives. And she wasn’t a poet. Wasn’t a writer. Adjectives, no matter how true, how simply honest, were useless. As useless as her stunned silence. As useless as her prolonged movement. As useless as trying to reach for a shaking hand and a broken heart, only to witness flinching flesh, and cotton candy colored blur. 

And then, everything went silent except the slamming of Dani’s bedroom door and the slamming of Jamie’s heart. Dani loved her. Dani loved her, and she said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, but I hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Next chapter will be the big one (maybe the last one?) with confessions and actual communication.


End file.
